


as good as you deserve

by timelordswillwasteyou



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Body Worship, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Established Relationship, Hair-pulling, I'm Sorry, Inaho has a giving-Slaine-pleasure kink, Light Bondage, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Self-Indulgent as hell, Tie Kink, and a choking-on-Slaine's-dick kink, and a hair-pulling kink, really just a Slaine kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-06 22:43:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14657745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timelordswillwasteyou/pseuds/timelordswillwasteyou
Summary: Slaine has experienced so much pain in his life. Inaho thinks it is about time pleasure evened it out.





	as good as you deserve

**Author's Note:**

> I felt like shit yesterday, so have this completely self-indulgent thing inspired by a self-inflicted prompt: "Slaine, you've been through so much pain; you deserve so...much...pleasure..."
> 
> I also wanted to try writing sex without using the go-to dirty words, and it surprisingly worked out so, good job me? that being said this is dirty as hell, so. yeah. (i love these two so much oh my god let them be happy and do things to each other)
> 
> (in celebration of the newest chapter of paperballoon's [The Unknown Land](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5256209/chapters/12127961), which is HYPE AS HELL and highly recommended by me and everyone)

A thrill runs down his spine; Slaine is finally, finally comfortable with Inaho’s hands on his body, every part of his body, and Inaho loves him so, so much for it. He had made Slaine a promise: when his lover was ready, _really_ ready, Inaho would worship him, make him come apart, make up for the years of pain with unimaginable pleasure.

And Slaine is ready, and Inaho plans to keep his promise. Repeatedly, all night, as much as Slaine will allow him to.

He runs the tips of his fingers over Slaine’s collarbones, down his chest, over his nipples and to his hips, letting his mouth follow their path. He knows Slaine’s body by now: how sensitive the skin over his collarbones is, how Slaine will writhe beneath him when Inaho’s mouth seeks out a nipple. It has been several minutes, already; Inaho has lost track of exactly how long, the time lost between the lines of Slaine’s scars and the wetness Inaho’s tongue leaves behind as he traces them. Slaine is so hard and flushed, red and leaking onto his hip, though Inaho has not touched him there, yet. Tonight he wants to worship his lover, wants Slaine to know and to feel his love, finally unrestrained.

He risks a glance upward, still lavishing Slaine’s nipple with his tongue, sucking it into his mouth and rubbing the other with his thumb. Slaine is watching him, biting down hard on his lip, naked and straining against Inaho’s tie which connects Slaine’s wrists to the headboard. (His eyes flutter and his head tips back a little every time the silk fabric rubs against his forearms; Inaho makes a mental note that Slaine enjoys the feeling.) He is flushed down to his chest, and as their eyes meet he gasps out a soft, “Inaho,” and Inaho throbs in the confines of his dress pants.

He wants, in the deepest part of himself, for Slaine to come apart with pleasure.

Their gaze breaks, and when Inaho returns his eyes to Slaine’s arousal, he knows he cannot hold back any longer. He begins peppering kisses down Slaine’s perfect torso, his hands following his mouth this time, running along the scars as he goes. These, too, he has learned, are very sensitive; and now that Slaine understands that, to Inaho, every part of him is beautiful and worthy of love, Inaho is pleased to discover that touching them in the right way can be another source of pleasure for Slaine. So he touches them reverently as his lips kiss Slaine’s hipbone, moving inward and then down the inside of his thighs, repeating the motions on the other side, his fingers stroking at the lowest of Slaine’s scars between his hip and navel.

He brings his gaze up to Slaine’s again. He is trembling; Inaho puts his hands on Slaine’s sides just above his hips to steady him, and then, holding their eye contact, takes all of Slaine into his mouth.

Slaine _convulses_ , letting out a gorgeous whine, gasping between reiterations of Inaho’s name. He will not last, and Inaho doesn’t want him to. He wants to feel Slaine’s pleasure, to taste his release; wants to choke on it. He groans at the thought, his neglected hardness begging for relief, but he ignores it, hollowing his cheeks as his mouth slides up Slaine’s shaft and feeling it pulse with arousal before sinking back down until his nose is tickled by soft blonde hair and he feels the hardness at the back of his throat and, god, if Slaine doesn’t finish soon Inaho is going to beat him to it.

Slaine’s hips thrust up, making Inaho choke, his throat convulsing around him, and Inaho’s eyes are watering as he throbs once more before releasing into his trousers, hips grinding into the sheets as he moans and sucks _hard_ on Slaine, and a second later he recovers just enough to realize his mouth is being flooded with warmth and his throat, as it works to swallow Slaine’s release, is pulsing in time with his lover.

He doesn’t want to pull off, yet; Slaine tastes wonderful, and he feels so good in Inaho’s mouth, so he keeps running his tongue along Slaine and sucking lightly around his head, until Slaine is writhing and gasping from the overstimulation, saying with a raw voice, “Inaho, my hands – I want to,” and then, “Ah, _Inaho_!” because Inaho has taken him down to his throat again.

He pulls off, replacing his mouth with his palm, wrapping a loose fist around Slaine and pumping lightly around the crown; he isn’t done, yet, but he wants to oblige his lover. He grimaces at the stickiness in his dress pants as he shifts up Slaine’s body to pull at the knot, and Slaine gives him a breathless, questioning look. Inaho cannot help but kiss his lips, reddened from biting.

When he pulls back, he ducks his head, feeling his face heat with color as he looks pointedly down his own body in answer to Slaine’s wordless question, then back at his face. It takes Slaine a second, but when realization dawns on his features it is quickly followed by shocked arousal, and Inaho has worked the knot free just in time for Slaine to reach up and tangle his hands in Inaho’s hair as he pulls him down for a breathtaking kiss.

The movement jostles Inaho on top of him, and Slaine breathes out harshly into the kiss, his hips moving forward into Inaho’s hand and pulling away a second later, as if his body cannot decide whether or not it is too sensitive to chase the pleasure. Inaho makes the decision for him: He rubs his thumb on the underside of Slaine’s crown, where he is most sensitive, until Slaine is mostly hard again and his mouth is going slack against Inaho’s, then brings his hand up above Slaine’s arousal, pressed into his lower belly, and drags the loose circle of his fist slowly down, starting at Slaine’s tip and moving down to the base like he knows Slaine likes.

There is another gasp of his name into Inaho’s mouth, and he pushes his hips up into Inaho’s hand as Inaho slips his tongue into Slaine’s warm and perfect mouth. Slaine is already hot in his palm, and he feels so big, and Inaho wants him to come again, wants to make him spill his release all over his stomach, paint his scars white so Inaho can tongue him clean after; and so he keeps up what must be a maddening off-and-then-down rhythm until Slaine whispers a strangled warning that Inaho catches with his mouth before spilling his release over Inaho’s hand and his own belly, whining loudly into their kiss as he makes Inaho shake with how beautiful he is.

Inaho is hard again, but it doesn’t matter; he leaves a lingering kiss on Slaine’s lips, taking in his glazed over, lidded eyes and flushed skin, then moves down his body again, mouthing down Slaine’s torso and lapping up the salty white substance warming his skin. Slaine lets out an indignant, “Inaho, what – !” that ends in a choked-off moan as Inaho moves between his legs and lifts Slaine’s knees onto his shoulders before going back down on him in earnest.

Slaine lets out an otherworldly sound, blindly reaching down as if to pull Inaho off, but his hands end up tangled in dark hair instead. Still, he protests, “Inaho, I can’t – not again, I just…twice already, Inaho, _please_ , I’m so, _oh_ , so sensitive, _Inaho_ – “ and then he cuts himself off with another desperate moan that clouds Inaho’s mind with desire and sends his blood rushing south so fast he can’t even _think_.

And he will stop, if it is what Slaine really wants; he begins to pull off to tell Slaine so, but then his lower lip drags moisture along his shaft as he goes, and Slaine _throbs_ against his mouth, meeting his gaze desperately. Looking into his light green eyes, glazed over with desperate arousal, Inaho hopes to convey what he doesn’t believe he can say out loud; Slaine understands, by some miracle, because his eyes widen, pupils dilating even further, before tightening his fingers in Inaho’s hair and pulling – not too hard, but with enough force that Inaho can feel it, and it sends a thrill of arousal down his spine, his eyes fluttering and hips rutting into the bed of their own accord.

Their gaze has not broken. Slaine sees something in Inaho’s eyes that makes him weave his fingers further into the hair at Inaho’s nape and pull, hard this time.

Inaho _keens_ , eyes pleading.

Slaine understands. And then he _understands_ , guiding Inaho’s mouth down onto him and lifting his hips experimentally. He hits the back of Inaho’s throat, choking him; he does it again, harder, and again, and he feels so good, making Slaine feel good, and a second after the thought comes Inaho is releasing once more into his underwear. He moans desperately around Slaine, who keeps thrusting into his mouth, looking down at him with something like amazement in his eyes, and Inaho holds his gaze as he hollows his cheeks deliberately, sucking hard just as Slaine shoves his head down all the way, and it is enough; Slaine lets out a choked sound, such a beautiful noise, and pulses weakly down Inaho’s throat.

They are both panting heavily. Slaine goes boneless against the pillows, staring in wonderment down at Inaho, who gives a last reverent suckle to Slaine’s head before moving to lie beside him.

Slaine gives him a slow, blissed-out smile. He looks sated and so, so happy, and _Inaho_ did that.

Lifting a hand up to stroke Inaho’s cheek gently, Slaine starts, “That was…” then trails off, smiles helplessly, and starts again, “You are too good to me, Inaho.”

Inaho has been trailing his fingers down Slaine’s sides, feeling his smooth, sometimes uneven – but always warm – skin under his palm; he doesn’t think he will ever grow tired of Slaine allowing his touch, even welcoming it, this beautiful tortured soul that deserves much better than what the world has given him so far. And it will take time, for Slaine to believe in what Inaho already knows, so Inaho returns his gaze, trying to catalog all the different greens of his smiling eyes, and says, “No. I am as good to you as you deserve,” and watches as confusion and then surprise and finally amazement wash over Slaine’s fine features.

Their kiss, when their lips meet, is gentle but searing, and when it ends, slowly and after long moments of quiet contentment, Inaho whispers against Slaine’s lips, “Besides…it is not as if there’s nothing in it for me,” and presses the stained front of his pants against Slaine’s naked hip.

Slaine’s laugh is smug and loving; he has never looked so beautiful. Inaho licks his lips, still tasting Slaine on them, still feeling him in his sore throat and jaw; he smiles. They will definitely be doing this again, sometime.

**Author's Note:**

> uh....sorry for the subpar beginning and ending, but it is PWP, after all. anyway, thanks for reading this dirty, dirty garbage. comments and feedback are so appreciated as always ^.^


End file.
